


Golden Age

by DreamingKate



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Tsar!Blaine, klaine AU, servant!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2774174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingKate/pseuds/DreamingKate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt could still remember the day Blaine was coronated as the new Tsar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Age

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: King Blaine and servant/farmers boy Kurt, age difference (+10years). Sweet courting! Super plus for any Hummel parents in the story.

His hands shook slightly as he climbed the steps to the Tsar’s chambers. At only six years old this was an absolute honor and Kurt was very aware of that fact. He was dressed in a brand new, scratchy gold outfit with too tight shoes but he was important. He was the one chosen to bring the Tsarevich his snacks. 

The halls were lined in elegant tapestries and gold, the light reflecting in them almost hurting Kurt’s eyes as he lightly rapped his knuckles against the door. An angry older man yanked open the door and waved him in impatiently. 

“What took you so long boy?” The man snapped and Kurt shrank back slightly, holding out the plate of cakes. “Not for me you stupid child!”

“Albert enough!” Someone said from behind him and the huge man huffed, stepping aside to let Kurt in. 

For a moment, he stood and stared at the young man in front of him, unable to move. He had seen glimpses of the royal family but mostly he stayed out of the way. He helped his mother in the kitchen and he helped his father with the horses, occasionally seeing the elegant family when they happened to be at the palace. 

Blaine was the youngest son of the Tsar Alexander and looked every bit as powerful as a Tsar should be. His military uniform was a deep blue and the golden buttons shined like the sun. His long fur lined cape looked like fire with the shades of red and orange and a woman hung a line of sparkling jewels across his shoulder. Kurt had never seen someone so beautiful or regal in his entire life. 

“Are those the cakes I sent for?” Blaine asked gently and Kurt’s chest tightened. 

“Yes,” he mumbled and Albert let out another sigh.

“Child, this man is your ruler. You will call him ‘imperial majesty,’” he snapped and Blaine rolled his eyes as another jewel was pinned to his cape. 

“Stop Albert.”

“You need to have your subjects respect you,” Albert said sharply and Blaine’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

“And as you said I am the new Tsar,” his voice was dark. “So stop telling me what I should or should not do.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable but Blaine shook off the hands that hovered around him and knelt in front of Kurt with a soft smile. “What is your name?”

“Kurt, your imperial majesty,” he choked out and Blaine’s eyes sparkled. 

“Call me Blaine,” he took one of the cakes. “Thank you for this, you make eat the other if you like. They’re quite good.”

Kurt smiled slightly and took a bite. “They’re tasty.”

“Glad you agree,” Blaine winked. “Stay for a bit Kurt.”

It was Kurt’s first taste of true beauty. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of Blaine and laughed along with Blaine as his servant Sam told jokes and funny stories. 

“How do I look?” Blaine let out a shaky breath and turned to Sam who grinned. 

“Like a Tsar,” he said brightly and then his smile softened. “Like your father.” 

Kurt had heard whispers about what happened to the royal family. Blaine, his parents and brother were riding to their winter home when someone shot through the walls of the carriage. His parents were killed instantly; the Tsarevich Cooper died hours later in his home and a sixteen-year-old Blaine was left to rule a nation with his grief. 

“Are you nervous?” Sam asked and Albert let out a snort.

“Of course not, he’s the Tsar. This is what he’s been preparing for his whole life.”

“It’s what my brother had been preparing for my whole life,” Blaine lifted his chin. “But this is my duty and I will do what Russia needs.”

—

Blaine had quickly proved to be the ruler that Russia needed. He was tough but fair, loved by his subjects and a clever ruler. He surrounded himself with supporters and threw out corrupt officials in his court. 

They called it a Golden Age and Kurt felt honored every moment he was in Blaine’s presence. 

When he turned ten Blaine requested he join his rank of personal servants. Kurt got a plush room right off of Blaine’s chambers and never once was made to feel lesser. He talked about art and music with the young Tsar later into the night and it didn’t take long before he considered Blaine one of his closest friends.

As the sun began to rise Kurt jumped out of his bed, making it neatly. He knew that most of the other sixteen year olds in the palace would hate getting up so early but it was his absolute favorite time of the day. 

He walked into Blaine’s darkened chambers, taking a moment to smile at the curled up figure under thick blankets, before he opened the curtains. Bright sunlight flowed into the room, bouncing off of the sparkling white snow that covered every surface in the city. 

“Kurt no,” Blaine let out a whine, sounding more like a five year old than a man who was almost thirty. “It’s too early.”

“Not when you have to be in court,” Kurt glanced back at him. “Do you want to wear the red uniform or the blue one?”

“Neither.”

“Stop your whining,” Kurt replied shortly. “I’m putting you in red.”

“You know, no other kid would dare speak to me that way,” Blaine mumbled but there was no malice in his voice. “I could have you…thrown out into the cold or something.”

“But then who would dress you?” Kurt laughed and Blaine sat up with a groan. His heart melted at the sight of Blaine, rumbled and sleepy and he had to glance away to stop his heart from flipping. 

It took Blaine a good thirty minutes before he started to seem more awake, sipping at his coffee and yawning widely. He fidgeted with the broach on his jacket before Kurt reached up to still it. 

“Is it going to be a long session?” Kurt asked. At one point he had been scared to ask anything but Blaine made him feel so comfortable that he never second-guessed himself. “Should I set up a request for lunch to be brought to you?”

“Oh we’re just discussing my future marriage,” Blaine said simply, as if he was talking about the weather. “So I get to go through a list of princesses and pick out who I want invited to the party around Christmas. Believe me, it’ll be a short meeting if I have anything to say about it.”

Something dark and angry started to gnaw at Kurt’s insides but he kept a smile on his face. “You’re twenty-eight, marriage should have been brought up years ago.”

“I’ll take my time thank you very much,” Blaine mumbled. 

“There must be one…girl you are interested in,” Kurt’s voice went a little high and Blaine looked worried, not an expression very common on him. 

“Let’s just say that I’m not…really interested in the princesses to say,” he shrugged. “They’re not for me.”

Understanding crashed over Kurt like a wave and he couldn’t hide a smile. “I’ll admit I’m not inclined towards them either.”

Blaine gave him a bright smile, shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s taking time but I’m trying to make homosexuality legal. I trust that you won’t say anything.”

“Of course not.”

“If it comes out that I prefer men before the law is passed all hell will brake loose,” his expression darkened. “I might never be able to really let anyone know. My family had enemies and I wouldn’t want to let them have any more reasons to hate me.”

“No one could hate you,” Kurt said softly and Blaine laughed, stepping away from his mirror and giving Kurt a kiss on the forehead. 

“That’s why I keep you around.”

—

This infatuation with Blaine was getting out of hand. Kurt at one point even sat down and wrote a list of all the reasons that it would never work between them both. 

Blaine was eleven years older than him. 

Blaine was expected to marry a woman.

Blaine was the Tsar.

Kurt was just a servant. 

They were both men. 

He read over the list again and again but it never lessened the butterflies fluttering in his stomach every time Blaine smiled at him. He couldn’t fool himself anymore; he was in love with the Tsar. 

“Kurt, do you like the ballet?” Blaine asked one morning as he ate his breakfast. 

“I’ve never seen one,” Kurt felt his cheeks heat up as Blaine’s smile widened.

“I’ll get you an outfit made up. You’ll love it,” Blaine reached over to squeeze his arm. 

The outfit Blaine had made was so incredibly elegant that Kurt felt out of place in it. Blaine brought him to the ballet in his personal carriage and brought him up to his private box.

“Who else is coming?” Kurt asked as he took his place behind Blaine’s chair. 

“No one,” Blaine looked confused. “It’s just you. Take a seat, I’ll get some champagne sent up soon.”

Kurt took a seat and Blaine beamed. 

The night was everything Kurt had ever dreamed of. The ballet was beautiful and he felt delightfully fuzzy as he sipped expensive champagne. Blaine leaned over and whispered information about the ballet and the dancers, lingering just close enough for Kurt’s stomach to flip and his cheeks to grow warm. Their knees touched as they rode back to the carriage together and talked about the evening. 

As soon as the doors closed to Blaine’s chambers he felt the press of warm lips against his own. Almost instantly he felt dizzy for a very different reason than the champagne and reached up to cup Blaine’s cheek. They kissed sweetly for a few minutes before separating. 

“I’m sorry,” Blaine whispered against his lips and Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. “You probably don’t-“

“I do,” Kurt nodded quickly and Blaine’s eyes softened. 

“I know I’m royalty and older but there will be no punishment if you don’t want to,” Blaine’s voice was gentle. “You can go back to your room and this will all be forgotten.”

Kurt responded by kissing him again and then nothing else mattered.

—

“You’re seeing someone?” Mercedes’s face was bright as they gossiped in the kitchens. She lowered her voice and leaned in close. “A boy?”

“Yes,” Kurt felt himself blush. 

“And it’s going well?”

“Very,” Kurt lowered his face, cheeks burning. “I think I love him.”

—

“I wish I could make this public,” Blaine whispered to him in bed, taking his hands and kissing them. “I wish I could tell everyone that we are in love. I wish I could marry you.”

“Me too,” Kurt pressed their bodies closer and kissed him deeply. 

Their relationship was challenge. They had to keep it a secret, both for Blaine’s reputation and Kurt’s safety. The only people who knew about them were the servants Blaine trusted most and even then there weren’t many. 

As much Kurt wanted to shout about their love from the rooftops he kept his mouth shut. No matter how much it hurt when he heard people gossiping about the latest princess who was arriving to meet the Tsar or how sad they thought it was that Blaine hadn’t married yet he would never say anything. 

Because Blaine had a special smile just for him. Because Kurt was the first person Blaine went to after traveling to meet other powerful people, greeting him with a kiss still frosty from the icy air outside. Because Kurt was the only person who could see Blaine as himself, not as the Tsar. 

Kurt would rather have Blaine in secret than not at all. 

It was enough.


End file.
